


So Much Better

by Sincestiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angsty Schmoop, Destiel - Freeform, Dirty Talk, M/M, Multi, Sastiel - Freeform, Wincest - Freeform, Wincestiel - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-26
Updated: 2013-11-26
Packaged: 2018-01-02 16:29:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1059039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sincestiel/pseuds/Sincestiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Somewhere, in all this fucked up mess they've created, Sam has lost his brother.  The one he fell in love with.  The one he'd have done anything for, even this, without Cas, if only Dean had been able to come to terms with his own desires.  And even though he's still hard, stilling throbbing, he's tuned out.  This just doesn't cut it anymore.  It's never been what he really wanted and it's not good for any of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	So Much Better

**Author's Note:**

> Started this a while ago. Found it today and felt inspired. And hopefully I'll have updates for a couple WIPs tomorrow. :)

"Would you take it like this, Sammy? So eager and needy for me?" Dean asks, pressing even deeper into Castiel's willing body, pushing him into Sam's aching erection as he fucks the angel into the cradle Sam has created between his thighs.

"God yes," Sam rasps, hips lifting, grinding himself against the small of Cas' back as he imagines it. His big brother fucking him, just like this. All hard, possessive need and deep, throaty groans. Just like Sam's always wanted. Just like they've both always wanted.

Before this, before they had Castiel to act as a sort of buffer between them, Sam always felt so out of sorts. Wanting something he couldn't have, seeing that want reflected in Dean's eyes even if they never spoke of it. Every moment felt chock full of tension and every touch burned too hot but not hot enough at the same time.

Dean was always there, but just out of reach. And Sam's fingers tingled to touch, his body always attuned to Dean's and entirely too receptive of his brother's gaze, the rare touches he received.

And now… well, now Sam thinks it's worse. Because now they've acknowledged this, thanks to Castiel. So the want is much more open now and it drives him crazy. Especially considering how he's still not getting what he needs. And neither is Dean. For that matter, Sam isn't sure Cas is getting what he needs either.

He keeps giving himself over to this pull between them, and he surrenders with no resistance. But Sam thinks Cas wants more than this, though the angel has never said as much. Sam thinks Castiel probably wants Dean to himself. But he keeps playing this part, being Dean's outlet for his unholy attraction to his younger brother.

Sam is pulled out of his reverie by a particularly hard thrust that makes Cas choke back a moan – he rarely makes any noise during their encounters. Probably because he's trying to help Dean keep the illusion intact.

"You'd feel so good around me, Sammy. So tight and warm," Dean's eyes burn into Sam, his gaze unwavering, like always. As if Cas isn't there at all. As if it truly is Sam's body Dean's is plowing into.

It just makes Sam want to touch even more. But he can't. That's the rule. The only rule they have. Sam and Dean can't touch. And even though they're both tangled up in Cas, there's no contact between them. Dean's very careful with that. Always. Like even the slightest contact between them will break the dam.

"God, Sammy," whimpers, his hand finally skating down the front of Castiel's body to grip his thus far neglected cock.

Cas twitches and turns his head into Sam's chest, hiding his face as much as seeking comfort. And Sam offers him what little he can, his palms running gently up and down Cas' sides, his mouth nuzzled into Cas' hair, laying sweet little kisses and softly spoken praise into his scalp.

"Doin' so good, Cas. Feel so good against me," Sam whispers and Castiel shivers in his arms, unused to even being acknowledged between them, much less being included, having his needs addressed. And Dean's sharp voice cuts him, lets him know he was heard and his brother isn't happy.

"Look at _me_ , Sam."

Sam wants to ignore it. Somewhere, in all this fucked up mess they've created, Sam has lost his brother. The one he fell in love with. The one he'd have done anything for, even this, without Cas, if only Dean had been able to come to terms with his own desires. And even though he's still hard, stilling throbbing, he's tuned out. This just doesn't cut it anymore. It's never been what he really wanted and it's not good for any of them. 

But it's still a command and it's still Dean, and as much as Sam just kind of wants to melt into Castiel at this point, he's never been able to ignore his brother. That's probably why they're here right now, so fucking screwed.

Sam reluctantly lifts his head again, gaze locking onto Dean's. But, in a slight show of defiance, he doesn't remove his lips from Cas' head. And as Dean watches, Sam moves his mouth down, catching Castiel's earlobe between his lips and sucking lightly.

Dean's eyes darken, his brow furrows a bit, but he doesn't comment. Instead, he starts a litany of filth that lets Sam know he's close. Dean always gets more foul mouthed the closer he is to orgasm.

"I'd fuck you so good, baby. Make you feel me for days," Dean huffs out, and he grips Castiel's hips tighter, lifts his ass to get a better angle, leaving Cas' cock lying forgotten against his own stomach, "Your little hole would be so fucking sore when I was done with you."

A bead of sweat drips down Dean's face as he works his hips, rutting Castiel's back even more firmly into Sam's groin. But the urgent need to come just isn't there for Sam any more. He just wants this over.

As if he senses Sam's distress, and maybe he does, Castiel presses a kiss to Sam's bicep, soft and lingering. And Sam wants to cry. He wants to cry for Castiel who can't seem to say no when Dean demands this. He wants to cry for Dean who can't give in and take what he wants. And he wants to cry for himself because he can't do this anymore.

Finally, Dean reaches his breaking point, coming with a few last stuttering thrusts and Sam's name on his lips. Castiel sucks a bit of Sam's skin into his mouth in a bid to keep silent as Dean buries himself forcefully with the power of his orgasm. And Sam shushes him gently though Cas isn't making a sound.

And then it's over. Dean, true to form, pulls himself free of Cas' body and makes for the little bathroom in the corner of their motel room, leaving Cas and Sam tangled and both still hard on the bed. It isn't always like that. Sometimes they all come. Sometimes they don't. Dean always does though. And he leaves the moment he has, shame written in the slump of his shoulders as he slinks away. Like now that his needs are filled, he can't stand the sight of them. Or he can't stand to let them see him. Sam's not sure.

"You okay?" Sam asks Cas as he pulls the angel up and more tightly against his chest.

Cas shrugs, a gesture he no doubt learned from them, and then nods. He could speak now, if he wanted, but he rarely does in the aftermath. Most often he just gets up, dresses, and leaves. He's gone before Dean leaves the bathroom, Sam left behind, cold in a bed that was so recently too full.

But this time is different. He must still be honed in on Sam's feelings, or maybe he's a bit too broken himself. Either way, he burrows into Sam's chest, situating himself sideways with both legs over one of Sam's thighs and his back supported by Sam's arm. It's a childlike position, but when Sam looks down, he's reminded very quickly that Cas is no child.

His erection hasn't flagged in the slightest, still perked up against his stomach. Still demanding attention from someone who isn't going to give more than a cursory stroke here or there. 

Sam isn't sure what comes over him then, but he touches. Without permission, and like he's never touched Cas before. He just wraps his hand around the hard flesh protruding from between Cas' thighs and sets a pace before Castiel can complain or blink away.

"Oh," The sound is punched out of the angel, surprised and thankful all at once. 

Sam bites at his bottom lip, eyes falling closed as Cas lets out another breathy moan. This. This is what all of their trysts are missing. A focus on pleasure that isn't selfish. Cas' pretty little sounds that Sam is instantly in love with. Moving together, being _together_. Because that's not what they do. They please Dean, tease Sam, and ignore Cas. This is so much better.

"Let me hear you," Sam says, speeding his hand up as he lays a kiss on Castiel's forehead.

Castiel's cock is silky smooth and pulsing in his hand. And Sam savors the feel of it, the way the thin skin moves over the hard length of it with his strokes. He revels in the tiny almost restrained pumps of Castiel's hips, like he's trying to hold back, but it just feels too good.

A few more desperate moans fall cautiously out of Cas' mouth, and then he's coming, wetting his belly and Sam's hand with his emission and moaning in earnest. Sam's eyes snap open just in time to see the bliss wash over Castiel's face and he's utterly beautiful. 

Sam wants to kiss him, but he's not sure how that would be received. Castiel won't even let Dean kiss him (not that Dean has tried more than once), and Sam's pretty sure Cas is in love with Dean. So he doesn't ask. Instead, he uses one of their discarded t shirts to clean them off. Then he bundles the angel closer and leans them against the headboard.

They're quiet for several minutes, sharing a bed and body heat longer than they've ever done without Dean. The only sound to be heard is the spray of the shower, and that's not going to stop anytime soon. Dean always stays in there a while afterwards.

Cas shifts on his lap, trying to get more comfortable, Sam assumes, and his ass rubs over the semi Sam is still sporting. He stills for a beat, and then says in a very quiet voice, "You didn't… I could… if you want."

It's odd to hear Castiel, who always seems to know what he's going to say, stumble over his words. But that's what Dean does to him anymore, makes him unsure, lost. Makes him doubt himself and everyone around him. Sam knows. Dean does the same thing to him now.

"Nah, it's okay," Sam answers, "This isn't really about me anyway."

Castiel laughs, a wry and broken sound that makes Sam's heart clench uncomfortably.

"It's always about you, Sam. You're the only reason he calls me now. You're the only reason he wants me here. I'm just a substitute for things he thinks he shouldn't want. I'm just a stand in for you."

Sam huffs and slides them down the bed a little, fumbling around for the blanket because he's getting chilly now that the adrenaline is wearing off.

"Not about me, Cas. It's about him. If this was about me, you never would have been involved at all. It'd be me under him. But he's scared and when Dean's scared he does stupid shit. Like hurt people who love him. And you do, don't you, Castiel?"

"Dean and I do share-"

"A profound bond. Yeah, you've said that already. Don't start avoiding. We only have room for one emotionally stunted idiot in our merry band of miscreants, and Dean's got that covered."

Sam situates them so that Cas is curled into his chest, the cover pulled up to their chins. Castiel's fingers dance intricate patterns over Sam's chest under the blanket and it's calming, if a little strange. He and Cas never touch like this. Honestly, he doesn't think Cas ever really gets touched at all, except for when it's necessary.

"I do. Love him." Castiel says quietly and Sam can tell the admission costs him dearly, "But that is of little consequence."

The shower cuts off then, and Sam is glad for it. He's not sure what to say to that. He'd like to tell Cas that Dean does care about him, but Sam isn't really sure what or who Dean cares for anymore, or if Dean even knows.

"I should go," Cas starts to pull away, but Sam makes a split second decision and holds on.

"You got somewhere to be? Because you could stay. Here, I mean. With me. Dean will probably leave, and even if he doesn't, he's not going to sleep with me."

"Thank you for the invitation, Sam, but I do not believe Dean would be comfortable with that arrangement," Castiel whispers, head craning toward the bathroom to listen for any sounds to indicate Dean might be emerging.

"No," Sam says, suddenly feeling a pressing need to make Castiel stay, "Who cares what makes _him_ comfortable? What about us, Cas? I don't want to be alone anymore," Sam is urgent, desperate. He knows he's clinging tightly enough that a human would find it difficult to breathe in the confines of his arms, but Castiel doesn't have that problem. So Sam doesn't let go.

Castiel looks up at him then, eyes searching, for what Sam doesn't know, but he seems to find it and he nods.

"For a little while," Cas concedes, "I am not in need of sleep, but I could rest for a short time."

Sam nods, satisfied that Castiel isn't going anywhere for the moment. He gets them a little more comfortable, twines their legs together, loosens his grip, and pulls Castiel's head gently back into his chest. Dean would be disgusted by this, Sam thinks. Cuddling is really not his thing. But Sam needs it, and if the little sigh of pleasure Cas lets out is any indication, Castiel needs it as well.

Sam expects Dean to complain when he comes out and finds them still in bed together, but he doesn't say a word. His eyes narrow, taking in the sight of the two of them curled up so closely, and his lips draw into a tight line. But he just turns away, starts getting dressed. And Sam doesn't ask where he's going. He doesn't need to. There's a bar just around the corner.

*~*~*

Sam isn't even sure how long he's slept when the sound of the door banging shut, obviously intentionally, wakes him. He jolts upright instantly, years of hunting having honed his reflexes perfectly.

He's confused for a moment and it dawns on him rather quickly that he didn't fall asleep alone. But Cas is nowhere to be seen. There's just him, naked in the middle of his bed, and Dean leaning on the wall by the door, illuminated slightly by the flashing neon sign outside, shooting daggers with his eyes.

Drunk then. Lovely.

Sam rolls his eyes and falls back to the bed, intending to go back to sleep. Dean can damn well take care of his own drunken ass.

But Dean's voice, low and dangerous, cuts through the murky darkness of the motel room, "Did you fuck him? After I left? Was he good, Sammy?"

Normally Sam would ignore Dean's drunken outbursts. They come far too frequently to be very alarming or attention grabbing. But this is skating too close to talking about something they never discuss outside of those moments with Cas, and not really during them either. So Sam can't let this go.

"No. I didn't fuck him. He probably wouldn't let me anyway. It's not me he's in love with," Sam says it very quietly, but he knows Dean hears him because there's a sharp intake of breath. And then nothing. Just complete silence save for the sound of a car driving down the street beside their motel.

"What?" Dean finally splutters, disbelieving.

"You heard me, Dean. Cas _loves_ you. And you treat him like shit. No surprise there though, huh? You treat everyone who loves you like shit."

Sam is waiting for an argument, waiting for Dean to deny it or justify himself. But that's not what happens at all.

"Cas!" And Dean sounds angry, practically growling his demand for Castiel to materialize immediately.

Fuck. This is not going to end well. Or start well. It's just going to be very bad all the way around.

The airy sound of wings flapping brushes over Sam, like seeing something peripherally. If he focuses on it too much, he can't hear it at all. But if he listens with no expectations, it's just there, almost silent but all too real.

Castiel's voice follows directly afterwards, and he must be fed up at this point too, because he launches into a tirade the moment his eyes find Dean's, "I understand that you have needs, Dean. I believe I have made it abundantly clear that I will do whatever it takes to fulfill those needs. But I have already presented myself to you once tonight, and I have no wish to do so again so quickly. So unless your need is vitally important to your continued survival, I have things to which I should attend."

"You love me?" Dean says near venomously, and it feels more like a statement than a question.

Castiel answers anyway, drawing himself up to his full height and puffing his chest out a bit, like he's preparing for an emotional blow, "Yes."

That's all he says. And Sam expects to be reprimanded for sharing Castiel's secret, though it was never really much of a secret to begin with. But Cas just stares Dean down, almost daring Dean to argue.

There is an intense moment when Sam thinks Dean will physically throw himself at the angel simply for having the audacity to love him. But Dean's stiff posture slowly relaxes and Sam can literally see the fight go out of him. His hand reaches up to grasp at his own shoulder – where he still bears Castiel's handprint, faded though it may be – and he doesn't even seem aware of the movement.

But then Dean's eyes flick back and forth between the two of them, and Sam can tell he's remembering earlier, coming out of the bathroom to the two of them still tangled on the bed.

"And what about Sam? You were getting pretty fucking cozy with him a little while ago."

Sam feels the accusation directed at both of them. Like Dean's jealous but he isn't sure who he's jealous of or why. Luckily Castiel answers for them, and Sam is reminded of just exactly what Cas is. His voice is steel, strong. He's himself again, not Dean's plaything like he spends so much time being these days.

"Sam needed physical comfort. I provided that."

Dean scoffs and takes a step toward Castiel. It would seem menacing if Sam didn't know Cas could smite him with a flick of a finger.

"What? You saying I'm not giving Sammy what he needs?"

Sam is so done with this. Dean is getting tiresome and petulant and Sam's just had enough. So he leaps from the bed and steps between them, not really sure which one he's protecting. But he faces Dean and the look on his face has Dean stepping back again.

" _I'm_ saying that, Dean. Right now. You're not giving any of us what we need. And it's so fucking stupid, because all we need is you. Cas is in love with you, though I'm not sure why right now because you're being an ass. I'm in love with you. And you… you're just broken. And you won't let either of us do anything to help you."

Dean's eyes are wide and he's breathing heavily. It's too much for him, declarations and hidden pleas. Sam knows Dean's fight or flight instincts are kicking in and he's not surprised when Dean bolts for the door.

"Go ahead. Walk out. You can kill things that go bump in the night without batting an eye. You can devote your life to taking care of someone else. You can deal with all the angels and demons shit with no problem. But someone says they love you and you head for the hills."

But his words are lost on Dean, because he's already gone. And Sam's left standing there, tears welling in his eyes. Then Cas' arms slip around him and it's startling. But not bad. Not bad at all.

"He'll be back," Castiel whispers into Sam's back, his face pressed tightly into the space between Sam's shoulder blades.

"Yeah," Sam starts, a devious plan forming, "I know."

Then he's turning, pushing Castiel toward the bed as he dips his head to latch on to the skin just below the angel's jaw. See, emotions aren't something Dean deals with very well at all. Which is ridiculous because no one loves deeper or more unconditionally than Dean. But sex he gets. This, coming back to find Sam and Cas seeking what they desire in each other, Dean just might understand.

"Sam, I don't…" Cas groans as Sam lays him down, hands already exploring his chest through the crisp white dress shirt, "I don't know what… _oh yes_."

Sam grins, still tugging lightly on Castiel's earlobe, "Just say yes, Cas. Relax and let it happen. Make it better than him, promise. 'Cause it's just you and me, not too many people with too many fantasies. Just us."

Castiel surrenders so sweetly, offering himself up to Sam's ministrations with no further objections. He lets Sam undress him, lifting his arms and hips as Sam fumbles the clothes from his body, tossing them haphazardly to the floor. And then there's just skin on skin, too hot but oh so good. And the sounds. God. Sam didn't know Cas could be quite so vocal. But he is, moaning and whimpering and pressing himself up into Sam's body like he never does with Dean. Not because he doesn't want to, Sam is sure, but because Dean wouldn't allow it.

But Sam gives him permission easily, moving his body in sync with Cas', seeking pleasure for both of them. His lips have just found Castiel's nipple and his hand has just pressed their erections together, stroking slow and easy, no rush, when Sam hears the door open. Castiel must hear it too because he freezes momentarily. But Sam doesn't let him retreat. He strengthens his grip, speeds his hand, and lets his teeth graze the pert little nipple still between his lips. And Castiel goes pliant under him, a groan reverberating through the room to mingle with Dean's little squeak as he shuts the door behind him.

"What are you…?"

But Dean's half formed question goes unanswered as Sam and Castiel both ignore him, pretend he's not even there. Their cocks slide together more easily with each passing second, sweat and pre-come mixing to slick the way. And Sam doesn't imagine the way Cas' body lurches more eagerly into his now, with their audience still held raptly attentive. And Sam's body may respond in much the same way. Because he's even more turned on now, fucking down against Castiel's body with more force.

"Good? See? God, Cas, it can be so fucking good, right?" Sam urges Cas to speak, to let Dean know just how much he's enjoying this. Just how much they could have if Dean would allow it.

"Yes. It's… Sam, yes, just like… _oh_ …" Cas's voice dies on a choked whimper when Sam sucks a nipple fully into his mouth, tongue lashing at it relentlessly.

"Sammy," Sam hears Dean's pained grunt from somewhere to his left. Closer now. And then, surprising probably all three of them, it's followed by a broken and rough, "Cas."

Castiel comes. Just like that. With Dean's voice still bouncing around the room on his name. It's instant and shocking and Sam doesn't doubt that just like him, Dean is focused entirely on Cas now, the way his body arches and shudders, the long spurts of come striping his chest and stomach, and the way his hands are clutching desperate at Sam's biceps. Like if he doesn't cling to something he'll fly away, shatter and fall apart. Sam has never seen something so beautiful and awe inspiring in his life. And Dean's little moan lets him know he's not alone.

And then the bed dips just as Sam is releasing his hold on Cas' cock and gripping his own more firmly, positioning himself over Castiel's thighs. His pulse kicks into over drive, but he tries to ignore the little jolts of the mattress as his brother slowly makes his way up from the foot of the bed.

He doesn't know what to expect. He can't see the look on Dean's face. He doesn't know if Dean's pissed or not. But he doesn't really care either. Because he does know one thing. Dean is turned on. And this is different than anything that's happened between them before. So there is going to be a change in the status quo. Sam can only hope it's for the better.

When warm hands land tentatively on Sam's hips, Sam's breath catches in his throat and it's all he can do not to press back into his brother's body as it hovers just behind him. But even one small wrong move could send Dean running again, so he grits his teeth and waits it out, slowing his pace on his cock.

Castiel watches them with hooded eyes, fucked out and covered in come but looking very interested in the proceedings above him. He catches Sam's gaze and holds it, eyes almost inscrutable but for the way they dilate slightly as Dean's hands skim around Sam's body, closer and closer to his cock.

For several long moments the only sound to be heard is a cacophony of their combined, labored breathing. But Castiel breaks that with two words. More commanding than he's ever dared to be when he's in bed with them.

"Touch him," and though Castiel's eyes never leave Sam's face, Sam knows those words aren't for him. He's speaking to Dean, urging him on. Maybe even, in his own way, condoning this, as if he has the ability to absolve them on heaven's behalf.

But, to Sam's wonderment, it seems to be exactly what Dean needs, because without argument, he presses his still clothed body completely to Sam's naked back and knocks Sam's hand out of the way. And then fuck. Dean's jerking him off. Right over Castiel's groin and lower abdomen.

Sam's not going to last. He's too worked up from Castiel's quick submission. Too enraptured by the feel of his brother against him, touching him, _finally_. And when Castiel's hands slide up the insides of his thighs, exploring as much as trying to help, Sam loses it.

He ends up with his head leaned back on Dean's shoulder as he presses into the touch of both their hands and pulses out strings of come that fall and mix with Castiel's release still coating his skin.

"Yeah, Sammy. Fuck, baby. So hot. Feel so good in my hand. L… love you, Sammy. So much. Sorry. I'm so goddamn sorry."

Castiel makes a sound at that. It doesn't sound hurt exactly. More just accepting and a little bit lost. Then he's moving, trying to slip out from under Sam's body without drawing too much attention to himself.

It doesn't work. But Sam is, again, shocked by Dean. His voice quickly drowns out any protests Sam tries to make concerning Castiel's sudden desire to leave.

"Stay, Cas. Please. Just… don't leave. Okay? Let me… I gotta make this right. So fucked up and wrong and I don't even know anymore what we're doing. Or why. But it's not working, is it? So let me make it right."

"Dean, I…" Castiel starts but doesn't seem able to finish whatever he was going to say, so instead he opts for slipping back into soldier mode, "There are things that require my attention. And I cannot-"

Sam goes willingly when Dean sets him aside. He should feel jealous, he knows. There is his brother, the man he's been in love with since he's been old enough to understand the concept, situating himself over another man. And the look on his face is tender and open and so rare. It's all for someone else. But Sam doesn't feel envious or hurt. If anything he feels privileged to bear witness to this.

"If you need to leave, I won't try to stop you, man. But if you think you're supposed to or that either one of us wants you to, you're wrong. I never want you to leave, Cas. Not even earlier after… Not even then. I just don’t know how to… I don't know how this will work, you know? You're so… and I want you. I really do. But there's Sam and that's all kinds of fucked up and I just don't know what to do, Cas. Tell me what to do."

Dean almost sounds close to tears as he lets one hand slide up to grip at Castiel's short hair, the other splayed over his ribs, holding himself in his straddled position over Castiel's body. And Sam can't see Dean's face anymore, but he can see Castiel's. And he can see all of Dean's pain and uncertainty reflected there for just a moment. But then Cas pulls himself together, reaches up with one hand to cup the side of Dean's face, and says, "You don’t have to choose, Dean. And you don’t have to stress over sins or being damned for your love for your brother. In case you've forgotten, there's no one watching. No one who cares anymore. Sam… he loves you probably more than anyone else will ever be able to. You deserve that."

"And you?" Dean asks, voice cracking and wavering and so very small that Sam can't keep himself from reaching out to rub soothingly at Dean's back. Dean pushes up into his touch but doesn't turn his attention from Castiel.

"I love you as well. And I am not opposed to sharing you with Sam. Or standing down if you wish to only have him. I just want you to be happy, Dean Winchester. No matter what it takes."

Sam doesn't expect what happens next. In all honestly, he kind of thought there'd be more talking. But, despite his little expedition into chick flick territory, this is Dean. And he is, at heart, a man of action. 

He doesn't ask permission this time, doesn't hesitate and give Castiel time to pull away. He just goes for it. One minute hovering above the angel and the next claiming Castiel's lips in a kiss that sears even Sam.

It throws him off for a moment, the way Dean lets his mouth and hands freely roam over Castiel's body, his neck and jaw and his sides and stomach respectively. But then Sam gets with the program and starts to help.

He gets Dean's shirt unbuttoned, reaching around him and trying not to disturb them too much. And Dean rolls his shoulders, helping out when Sam goes to remove it. Dean's skin prickles under his fingertips, but he doesn't pull away. So even if Sam doesn't get to have him tonight, even if Castiel ends up with all of Dean's attention, it's okay. It's okay because they'll figure it out. And Dean isn't shying away from his touch.

With that thought, the thought of nights to come and the possibility of finally having more, Sam sets himself to the task of undressing Dean completely and helping him show Cas just how much they don't want him to leave.

*~*~*

"So good for me, Sammy. Always so good, baby," Dean whispers against Sam's neck as his hands grip Cas's hips, helping him lift himself off and then slide back down on Sam's cock.

Sam doesn't even know how they ended up in this position, Sam riding Dean – his back pressed against Dean's sweat slicked chest – while Castiel rides him – the side of his face sliding against Sam's cheek as he watches Dean.

It started with Sam and Castiel on hands and knees, faces close enough to kiss lazily while Dean worked them both open in turns, lubed fingers drifting back and forth between their bodies. He wasn't gentle; Dean never is, but it wasn't cold and methodical like it used to be. And sometimes he even let a sweet bit of praise or a trembling moan slip out. And in no time flat Castiel was begging for more and Sam wasn't far behind him.

And now they're just… taking their time like they never really have before. And Sam keeps hearing the pleased little sounds Dean makes every time Castiel stretches up to kiss him. It's hot but soon he finds himself a little jealous. Not of either of them in particular but just of the fact that no one is kissing him. But all it takes is a little turn of his head and a whine and he finds himself with a mouthful of Cas' tongue, plush lips caressing Sam's just as softly and reverently as he does Dean's. And if Sam didn't know better, he might think Castiel has feelings for him too. And maybe he does. But Sam can't worry about that too much just now because Cas is starting to grind down harder on his cock, mewling into Sam's mouth.

Sam feels movement between their bodies and realizes the cause of Castiel's sudden insistence. Dean is tweaking his nipples, pulling the skin taut and then flicking a little. And fuck if Cas doesn't love it, pressing his chest toward Dean for more and corkscrewing down on Sam's cock wildly.

It takes a minute but Sam catches on. Dean's trying to push Cas over the edge, trying to get the domino effect they sometimes, though very rarely, manage. So Sam works a hand between his and Castiel's bodies, wrapping his fingers around Cas' hard shaft and stroking, just the way he knows Cas likes, quick, hard jerks that have his hips hitching up and then shoving down with an urgency that seems to overtake them all.

There's nothing slow about it after that. Castiel slams himself down over and over again, driving himself closer and closer. And the movements rock Sam harder down onto Dean's cock, the hot, thick flesh filling him as deeply as it can. And Dean isn't idle. His hands run over both their bodies, his hips shift up and down as quickly as he can in this position, and his lips… god, those lips alternate between sucking biting kisses into Sam's neck and tugging at Castiel's mouth like he just can't get enough of the taste he finds there.

And then it happens, perfectly. Castiel wriggles down on Sam's cock and then shoves a time or two into his hand. And just as Cas clenches down on him, tightening like a vise on Sam's cock, his walls fluttering in the throes of orgasm, Sam lets lose inside him. He pulses, hips shoving up once, twice, three times and then coming so hard the breath is punched out of him on a strangled gasp.

Then Dean moves, toppling them all over in an ungainly heap as he rolls forward into Sam's body, shaky and uncoordinated as his cock throbs and spurts inside of Sam.

Sam can't help himself. Castiel just looks so utterly sated and debauched where he's lying under Sam's body. He presses their lips together again, chasing the hint of his brother in Cas' mouth. And it's fucking delicious.

Last time this happened, they were able to untangle themselves and stumble to the bathroom, showering together even though the shower was entirely too small for the three of them. And Cas held them both up until they were done and then practically carried them back to bed, tucking them in - _together_ \- before flapping away to attend to his business.

But this time they're too tired for that. Even Cas seems rather drained, so Sam takes it upon himself to rearrange them as best he can. Dean ends up in the middle, curled into Castiel's back with Sam spooning him from behind. And, lo and behold, he's too fucked out to even complain about the cuddling.

A few minutes after Sam turns off the light though Dean mumbles something barely audible. Sam hears it just fine. And he's sure Castiel does too.

"So much better now."

And it is. Better than Sam ever dared to dream it could be.


End file.
